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Clear Flour Bread has purveyed artisanal breads and pastries to the residents of Brookline since 1982. Under the care of Nicole Walsh and Jon Goodman — who took over baking operations from Christy Timon and Abe Faber eight years ago — Clear Flour Coffee Bar sprouted from the original bakery in 2022. Nestled in the elbow of Thorndike St. and Lawton St., Clear Flour is a true Boston idyll.

Every weekend, a procession of customers reliably traces at least a third of Lawton St.’s sidewalk. Clear Flour may be the only establishment in Boston where a line down the block isn’t so much a deterring factor for the small business, as an enticing promise — one of perfect pastries. Only three parties are able to fit in the tiny lobby of the bakery at a time (the reason for the line), so the wait is far less enduring than an initial look might suggest. Dreamy French jazz and the persuasive scent of freshly baked rolls waft from the swinging door of the bakery to greet seasoned regulars and patient newbies alike, seven days a week.

With its crusty baguettes that might come straight out of that one scene in Ratatouille and its detailed, old-school bakery schedule which shifts on a daily basis, Clear Flour feels like a corner of Europe, here in Brookline. The bake shop boasts delicacies of German and Italian origin, like vollkornbrot (every Monday) and pastiera (an Italian orange and ricotta tart that was available in their spring rotation).

In a market increasingly saturated by fleeting internet food trends, Clear Flour’s commitment to tried-and-true classics, with reinvention informed by tradition, is commendable.

“We might fill our croissants, but it’s going to be appropriately traditional,” Nicole Walsh, the bakery’s owner, said in an interview with The Crimson. “We’re not really putting candy bars inside our products. We’re making everything in house. The products maintain a sense of themselves.”

That being said, Clear Flour Coffee Bar has valiantly kept pace with the constant overturn of seasonal specials which have become obligatory in a coffee landscape dominated by the likes of Starbucks, doing so with class.

“We’re not going to order syrups if we are able to make it in house, and the creative energy that is shared amongst the team is really what makes it stand out,” Walsh said. Their inventive coffee and matcha specials include offerings like lychee matchas and caramel apple lattes. Not to mention, Clear Flour was experimenting with the Táche Pistachio Milk even before Blank Street Coffee brought it into the mainstream coffee scene with this summer’s crossover with the brand.

“It takes ideas bouncing off of each other to come up with the perfect combination of ingredients,” Walsh said. In addition to ideating and crafting loaves, seasonal viennoiseries and inventive caffeinated drinks, Clear Flour’s over 50 employees have also developed a line of in-house ice creams, sherberts and sorbets.

Beyond the outstanding repute of Clear Flour’s delicacies, the expert juggling of the business’s lasting fleet of regulars and ever-expanding fleet of new regulars is made more impressive by their resistance to contemporary advertising.

“We don’t do any marketing,” said Walsh, “the word of mouth is the marketing.”

Carly Mast — who became a regular after graduating from Boston University — introduced her friend to the shop recently. She confirmed Clear Flour’s word of mouth prestige — one increasingly rare in an algorithm-fueled 2025.

“It’s kind of just known. It’s one of those local bakeries that everyone’s like ‘Oh, you have to go!’” said Mast.

“We have three kids and they’re also hooked on Clear Flour. They eat their peanut butter sandwiches every week on it,” said Marian Delarcio, who has spent 10 years frequenting the bakery three to four times a week to pick up bread and cookies for her family.

With such bombastic success, some are surprised by the fact that Clear Flour will not instigate a city-wide chain, like competitors Flour Bakery + Cafe and Tatte. On the contrary, Walsh and Goodman are, honorably, sticking to their community-focused guns.

“I’m seeing customers every day, I go out and hug customers in line, my husband’s former high school friends come by on their way to a friend’s wedding. It’s just so nice when I can be there, I like to be at my bakery,” Walsh said.

In an America inundated with faceless chains and TikTok trends, Clear Flour’s pride in what Walsh describes as their “hidden” location tucked away from central foot traffic and the committed customers that seek them out, feels a pure reprieve.

“We’re just trying to run a really good business, small business, keep it tight. I don’t want to blow it up too big. I’m sure we could be successful, but, you know, more money, more problems. We’re just trying to have a sustainable life,” Walsh said.

—In her column “Local Appetite,” Kate E. Ravenscroft ’26 explores locally owned foot haunts which defend the charm of an older Boston and Cambridge, in the face of rampant commercialism. She can be reached at kate.ravenscroft@thecrimson.com.